


Piano Keys Hold Memories

by Fandom_Stuff



Series: A Collection of Ficlets [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Plays Piano, Dean restores a piano in the bunker, Ficlet, One Shot, Piano, just a small soft idea, memories of being a kid, secret piano playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Stuff/pseuds/Fandom_Stuff
Summary: Dean's mother was teaching him piano before the fire claimed her life, but Dean didn't let her death stop him from playing. Playing piano, and the memories that come with it, is the only thing Dean has left to cling to of his life before monsters and he wants to keep it a secret from Sam and Cas.
Series: A Collection of Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888318
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Piano Keys Hold Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! The link below is a link to the audio 'book' version of this fanfiction. If you're someone who would rather listen to this fic than read it, I have now made than an option! If not, then enjoy the written story as it is below :)  
> [Piano Keys Hold Memories](https://youtu.be/BPd7PBSDsCU)  
> 

Dean was very careful in making sure that Sam and Cas were oblivious to the instrument he kept holed up in a secret wall in the Dean Cave, only playing it when he was sure he was alone. 

When Dean had first found it, on that glorious day that he’d been scouring the bunker for anything useful, he’d felt a small spark ignite in his chest, calling him forward. The first press of a delicate finger on middle C sent warmth through his body, reminding him of his childhood, the childhood that had been cut too short far too soon. 

A memory floated at the corner of his mind and he grabbed at it, holding it close. 

He was sitting beside his mother, only four years old, merely a few days before the fire- before everything went wrong - her soft encouraging voice wreathed around him from where she sat beside him, walking him through basic scales. If he tried hard enough, he could feel her warm hand on top of his as she guided his fingers across the keys.

Just looking at the instrument had caused the ghost of a smile, that used to creep onto his face when he’d sit back to let her play, try to make a reappearance. Her hands would fly over the keys as her head bobbed to the melody while her eyes slowly slipped shut, relying on muscle memory alone to finish the song. 

An ache had begun to spread in his chest and he knew what he had to do, it was what he had wanted to do the second he’d laid eyes on the dusty piano that was stuffed into a large storage closet.

The piano was old, the keys yellowed by time and lack of use, the wood protecting the outside was dull and lacked any polish that it might have once had, but Dean was determined to fix it, and so he set to work. 

It took him about a year. He took every hour he could find to himself in between hunts and sleepless nights, to work on the piano outside of Sam and Cas’ prying eyes. He wanted this to be something just for him, a way to remember what his life used to be, what it  _ could  _ have been. A life where he’d grown up with a mother beside him and a father who wasn’t hellbent on revenge; a life where he didn’t have to grow up too fast, where he could have been a kid with his little brother, instead of his guardian. 

He’d found the secret room in the Dean Cave when he’d been constructing the room, and since that moment he’d known exactly where he wanted the piano to go. He’d sent Sam and Cas on a shopping trip and used that time to roll the piano into the room; it fit perfectly in the little hole in the wall and when Dean sat down for the first time to play it in the emptiness of the bunker, he could almost feel the soothing presence of his mother beside him, hands covering his, showing him the notes to play. 

_ Hey Jude _ seemed the obvious song to play for the piano’s first full song, it was the song his mother always played and the song he’d made sure to learn by heart whenever he could find a piano to practice on. Finding piano’s to practice on had always been hard, but when his father would drop him and Sam at a motel and run off to hunt a monster, sometimes the main room would have a piano, and Dean would sit down for hours and practice. 

Dean let out a breath of air and sat up straighter on the piano bench, rolling his shoulders and placing his hands over the keys. A beat of silence passed, and then Dean was playing, every piece of memory he had stored in the back of his mind was now flying towards the surface, allowing him to give himself over to the music that sighed out of the piano in long strings of melody. His eyes fell shut, just as his mother’s used to, as he gave himself over to the instrument under his fingers.

Dean played and played, so lost in how good it felt to have a piano in front of him again, that he didn’t even hear the bunker door open announcing the return of Sam and Cas. He didn’t hear the halting of their footsteps, nor did he hear their soft whispers as they tried to figure out where the sound was coming from. He didn’t register the shadows that passed over the door as Sam and Cas peered inside, catching a glimpse of Dean’s silhouette, framed by dark and freshly polished wood. He didn’t see the soft smiles that played across their faces as they listened to him play, watching the years of tension bleed from his shoulders and drop away as he gave himself over to the sweet sounds that the piano released. 

A quiet conversation passed between Sam and Cas while Dean played, both deciding that they wouldn’t say a word of this to Dean, that it was clear he didn’t want them to know. Neither one minded that Dean hadn’t wanted to share this talent with them, they were just happy to know that there was something out there that could make Dean stop carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, even just for a moment. 

Sam and Cas retreated back into the bunker, just as Dean’s fingers stilled on the piano keys, filling the bunker with silence again. Sam called Dean’s name and Dean jumped, worried that they’d heard him playing, but the sound of the heavy bunker door slamming into place quelled that fear and their footsteps on the stairs told him they’d only just arrived. 

Dean ran a hand over the smooth wood of the piano one more time before he pushed it back into the wall to hide from prying eyes. With one last look at the hiding place, he went to go help Sam and Cas with the groceries, none the wiser to the fact that his brother and the angel knew his secret, and had orchestrated their return a second time.

Sam and Cas never said anything about the piano, both agreeing that they would take that secret to their graves so that Dean could continue to keep this one thing, along with all the memories it encompassed, to himself.


End file.
